Local knowledge warns to “trust no friend in the fog of Caliphas,” advice once spread by sailors plying the rocky coasts of Avalon Bay but now most often cited amid the alleys and salons of Ustalav’s capital city. Only 34 years ago, the royal court relocated to within the county’s borders, bringing with it the prestige and inf luence the proud region long coveted. Yet as is so often true, achieved desires heralded damnation. Today, the immigrating noblesse seeks ever-new decadences, rampantly exploiting the cheap lives of the county’s simple people. The costal cities grow more and more crowded, unleashing diseases of both body and mind. And as the wildernesses give way to fuel the hungers of the growing population, long-slumbering things rouse to a world unprepared for their displeasure.
In Ustalavic history, Caliphas once held a reputation as the demesne of witches and their soulless servitors. Legends say that with the defeat of the country’s last king, the mysterious sisters of the Albria woods parlayed with the Whispering Tyrant to take control of the land they considered theirs, but the uncaring lich spurned them and scattered their numbers. After the Tyrant’s fall, Caliphas numbered among the first counties reborn, its rulers—the Caliphvaso family— being one of only two noble lineages to survive the lich’s rule. Rivalry between the coastal county and the capital of Ardis began almost immediately, exacerbated by contention between the Caliphvasos and the newly crowned Ordranti line—a bitterness that persists into the modern age.
Caliphas claims a dramatic landscape, sloping down from the rocky peaks of the Hungry Mountains, through woodlands and fertile river country to the rocky coast of Lake Encarthan and Avalon Bay. The majority of the county’s much-touted civilization clings to the coastline, giving way to wilderness just as rugged and hamlets just as superstitious as one might find in any of the country’s hinterlands. While lean wolves hunt the hills and forests, Caliphas is most notorious for great swarms of winged shadows—ravens and bats obsessed over in local folklore.
Although the people of Caliphas pride themselves on their enlightenment, their superstitions merely take a more urbane quality—folk medicines and rural portents replaced by racial prejudices and peddled omens. Such faux worldliness leads many city dwellers to dismiss the supernatural as hokum unsuited to modern reason. Personal independence and dismissive attitudes toward the crown typify local outlooks, according the region its reputation as a haven for dissention and a leader among counties opposed to the monarchy, even as it harbors the throne.
Notable Sites
Despite its reputation as one of the most cosmopolitan regions of Ustalav, Caliphas holds more than its fair share of mysterious sites and strange settings.
Anactoria: Along the murky edge of the Albria Woods, the hearty people of Anactoria farm peat used across Ustalav as inexpensive fuel. Yet the shadowy village is best known for its local celebrity, the Maid of Anactoria, an ancient but well-preserved corpse discovered in the bogs and enshrined in a private cottage. Legends ascribe all manner of powers to the withered corpse, from prophetic sighs to healing tears, while tales portray her as a tragic lover separated from her heart’s desire by gulfs of distance and time. Although most evidence of the ancient carcass’s miracles proves anecdotal, numerous groups—from the University of Lepidstadt to the Aspis Consortium—are regularly denied in their attempts to buy the Maid, leading to frequent searches for similar bog bodies, known locally as “dead gold.”
Caliphas: The fog-haunted capital of Ustalav reigns as the country’s most prosperous city and home to the court of Prince Aduard Ordranti III. See Chapter 3 for details.
Chateau Douleurs: Transformed by generations of eccentric Caliphvasos, obsessed artists, and armies of servants, Lake Raiteso’s eastern shore boasts a paradise of labyrinthine gardens, statue-guarded pavilions, strange menageries, and luxurious retreats spreading symmetrically from the dominating magnificence of the central Chateau Douleurs. Within the palace’s high galleries, salons, and ballrooms sprawl the accumulated art, treasures, and decadences of the Caliphvaso clan. Yet few ever lay eyes upon the estate grounds, and even fewer upon the palace’s interior, as a legion of deadly family guards admit only the invited. Such lethally guarded privacy spawns countless rumors of cultic orgies, murderous hunts, maddeningly changeable palace chambers, and bitterly guarded family secrets.
Grayce: This quiet township serves as the gate to Lastwall, its devout community of farmers, shepherds, and weavers revering a provincial pantheon including Iomedae, Pharasma, and the empyreal lord Andoletta. Here the Chapel Bridge, a wooden drawbridge built through an ancient shine to Pharasma, spans the Path River and connects with roads leading northwest to Vigil and south to Vellumis.
Vauntil: Miles of vineyards and f lower farms surround the self-proclaimed “City of the Senses,” making it one of the most scenic and aff luent regions in the county. Each year, chefs, vintners, perfumers, jewelers, and artists of all walks compete in the annual “Last Breath” festival, a cross-medium competition of that which is best in life. Expert connoisseurs—many of whom pay highly for the opportunity—judge a vast variety of experiences, ultimately awarding a single champion the highly coveted label “worth dying for.” Regular tragedies haunt the contest’s history— scandals such as human ingredients, rival assassinations, and the ecstatic death of judges—but modern participants embrace these calamities, granting the competition both its morbid theme and dangerous reputation.
Prince Aduard Ordranti III
As the second son of Princess Maraet Ordranti and Duke Ardeten Holtzver, Aduard Ordranti never expected to rule. By the time Aduard reached his majority, it was obvious he had little taste for the life of a pampered princeling, possessing a hearty constitution, a headstrong disposition, and a predilection for the outdoors, hunting, and the company of soldiers. After completing his schooling, Aduard traveled the country’s wilder reaches, hunting and touring the forts of the northern and western borders and discovering an appreciation for military life. Such forays led him into danger on numerous occasions, against both beasts and lawless raiders. This willingness to face danger and his dismissal of class boundaries won Aduard widespread favor with the country’s f ighting men, yet marked him as an embarrassment at the royal court.
Although the death of his brother and his own ascendance to the throne had never been his desire, Aduard accepted it as Pharasma’s will, taking the throne at age 29. Rough, unprepared, and overly trusting in his divine right to lead, the early years of Aduard’s reign were characterized by brashness and political naiveté at a time in which eastern Ardeal was scoured by the War without Rivals. In the 36 years since, Aduard continues to put great faith in Pharasma’s guidance and an adopted tradition of military stoicism, but has also grown more skilled at manipulating political rivals. He still despises endless debates, leading to occasional f lares of ire and abrupt ends to courtly proceedings. Although he tries—poorly—not to let his private opinions show, the prince loathes Count Neska and Countess Caliphvaso for their arrogance and endless scheming, and finds the Palatinates’ endlessly changing spokespersons simpering cowards, but enjoys a kindred spirit and dependable political ally in Amaans’s Count Galdana.
Countess Carmilla Caliphvaso
Records recount Lord General Haldrian Ganailad of Lastwall saying of Countess Caliphvaso, “Her ladyship is all that is Ustalav. Ambition’s f lame burning atop a taper of poise and undeniable charm, wholly cloaked in a midnight of unspoken temptations.” Such remains true of the land’s most outspoken and active noblewoman, a vision of unapproachable beauty known as much for her dramatic coiffures and defiance of age as her daring denouncement of Ordranti royal politics. Ever seemingly on the cusp of her fortieth year, she embraces the facade of cool aloofness and demurring charm expected of Ustalavic noblewomen even as she manipulates webs of informants, mercenaries, hopeless suitors, sycophants, foreign emissaries, and the nation’s peerage to enrich her own county and increase her already near-royal standing. Hushed stories also tell of her storied but never witnessed temper, in the face of which bold detractors vanish and half-sly rivals are stricken down amid storms of scarlet lightning. Yet despite such fears, rumors endlessly surround the vain but lethally alluring “Queen of Caliphas,” most relating to her supposedly scandalous relationship with her nephew Renies (see page 13), the disappearance of her sister Millaera, an alleged penchant for criminal decadences, or the fact that Lord Ganailad’s f lattery was recorded more than 50 years ago.